


Until We Meet Again

by skipper



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Forbidden Love, Historical, Possible Character Death, Pregnancy, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27680686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skipper/pseuds/skipper
Summary: Outside its walls, the Jonas house is a distant dream. The walls are high, holding in the hope and power every simple man has. It is a place that Ambriella, at one time, longed to be. But years later, working in the Jonas house has introduced her to a world of pain, despair without escape.Then, after a chance encounter with a Jonas heir, Ambriella is introduced to feelings. They are feelings she never believed she would experience, leading her to choices she never expected make.With Nicholas, she finds a sudden strength, ultimately discovering if she can fight for what they have. Ambriella is forced to choose. Either a life with Nicholas, or break a deal, protecting all she holds dear.
Relationships: Joe Jonas/Original Female Character(s), Kevin Jonas/Original Female Character(s), Nick Jonas/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> “Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over.” – Unknown

_My dearest Ella,_

_I find myself speechless and unable to write many words. I sit here at this table that has been built for you. I look around and see the many things that I hope for us. But in the end, I fear many of these thoughts will be in vain._

_I write this letter, only to be given to you in the chance of my death. You will not read it otherwise. Should I finish this journey with you, I will destroy its very existence. The thought that you and I might not spend our final hours together is positively awful._

_I see the fireplace and think of the hours I have hoped to spend with you. I wished for children around our feet, playing and the likewise. When I walked through what I had thought to be our bedroom, though it looks fairly silly with hardly any furniture, I think of the nights I hope to be holding you in my arms._

_I want to raise a family, create this home, which would be only ours, Ella. We would create this life, which was simply ours, a life that no one could choose but us. We would have children, and we would see their children. We would have happiness and holidays. I would find work, something in carpentry I hoped. And every inch of our home would have remnants of you, your own personal touches that you have never had the opportunity to unveil._

_There is a ring inside this envelope. It is a ring that I hoped to one day give to you, in hopes that we might one day share our love in front of those that cared for us. I kept it here, should I arrive, and I would destroy this letter, get down on one knee and place it on your finger myself. But now, while you are reading, and place it on your finger. This is a reminder that I am always with you. I will never leave you darling, even if you find a love other than mine, I am always with you._

_I wanted all of these things for you, darling. I want you to still have them. I want you to keep this house. I want you to be happy, find a husband, have a family, and be a mother. Most of all, Ella, I want you to live in a way you have never thought you would. I want you to experience life. You are free now, free from everything._

_I wish I had some wonderful words to say to you. I want some profound speech that might convey all these tears I am currently shedding. Some writing that would be able to express the depth of my feelings and love for you, but alas, I have none. Just know that I will always love you. I have always loved you._

_Though our time was short, it was more powerful than I had ever hoped to experience. I treasure every moment we had together, every minute and hour in your arms was a lifetime more than I could have asked for. I love you, darling. For all eternity, until we can be together again, I will love you._

_You are free now, Ella. My death will never be in vain because I know you are free._

_Until we meet again, darling, my heart remains with you._

_Always yours,_

_Nicholas_


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.” - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The house was busied and hurried, all the huffs and complaints as they were overworked and left sleepless in preparation for the coming reception. It was not the first and certainly not the last, but this one was filled with more people of higher manner. Ambriella released a huff of breath as she scurried down the long hallway, her eyes peering for anyone who might be overlooking. Though she did not see them, Ambriella was fully aware they were watching. If not them, then someone in search of a punishment, as though she needed another.

She neared the large room in time, though the face of the one before her informed Ambriella that she was indeed performing less than satisfactorily. She kept her own face even and unflinching, appearing that she had not noticed and neared her intended corner. The various cordials and other liquors lined the wall behind her post, and she knew there was more to prepare for the occasion.

Ignoring the terse atmosphere behind her, Ambriella took much time arranging her counters and supplies accordingly. She knew to stay busy, not appear bored or restless, but most importantly, she knew her place in this home. Today was not a traditional duty, but certain punishments could not be avoided, something she knew all too well. There was a standard and protocol to her position, one she often fought against, which was a fruitless effort.

After fulfilling her duties, Ambriella moved through the vast hall, assisting in the assigned adjoining areas. In the large household there were many employed, most were ones she spent little time with, but she’d come to know a few of the faces. Others didn’t last long, but even they would know their place on a day such as this one. Despite her personal thoughts, it was not uncommon for others to find her difficult, but Ambriella simply ignored them, they were never working in the house long enough as it was.

One each task had been completed, nearly to perfection, the final sounds of new orders were heard, spouted by the ones in charge of the extravagant event. Ambriella glanced around the room as she awaited her next instruction. Her gaze lingered on the transformed room and she could not help but feel in awe. Despite being a part of it, the mixture of hands created quite a masterpiece. It wouldn’t meet the approval of those that lived there, but it was beautiful all the same.

The entire room was spectacular; each decoration sitting perfectly aligned with the following, each table aligning the walls sat adjacent to the next. The centerpieces had been placed exactly right, along with each place setting, napkin, and tag. With the afternoon reception, only finger foods were necessary, along with the cocktails. Her post was a simple, yet mundane, with the task of keeping each glass full.

She sighed contentedly as the sound of music filled the air, and she glanced to see the quartet warming up in the opposite corner. It was soft music that Ambriella rarely heard, but thoroughly enjoyed. It was very peaceful and eased her often despaired soul. A quiet murmur rang through the group at the announcement of the official ceremony’s end, which meant the guests would be arriving at any moment. Suddenly the calm moment was replaced by the furious movements by all to perfect the hall even further.

Ambriella pressed her hands against her thick skirt, smoothing the thick fabric as she took a glance around the room. Fingers brushed her dark hair from her face and into the tight bun the evening had required. It was tight enough to cause an ache behind her eyes, but something she couldn’t stop to think about now. Out of necessity, she was consistently eyeing for anything out of place, always aware of who might be watching. It was just another constant in her life, lingering day in and day out, giving her far too much grief, and ultimately, hopelessness.

As the minutes passed, Ambriella felt her nerves on the rise, a sense of unease growing with the anticipation of the family’s arrival. The pressure of the event at hand mixed with the thought of interacting with the unfamiliar people only increased her nervousness. It was her job to stay behind the scenes, be inconspicuous, though there were some that made it rather difficult. But it was what she had learned, and she performed the part well, for the most part.

Suddenly, the large door opened, and she watched the first couple arrive and Ambriella skittered away, shifting out of sight with the presence of the guests. She knew her place and quickly moved behind the wine table, into the shadows and out of sight. On one hand it seemed to take forever, but she knew this would be the quietest moment of the evening. 

Once the newly married couple’s names were announced, Ambriella’s duties would begin. It was her responsibility to fill each glass presented, not say a word and smile when indicated by those above her station. In between guests, she was to stand in the shadows and be hidden until that time, after all, someone like she could not fit into standards such as these. She was dirty and unkempt, and the family and guests were sophisticated in a way that she would never truly understand.

Ambriella once again brushed back the dark hairs from her face and straightened her blouse. It was a pristine white, donned with the thick black skirt to cover the rest of her petite frame. She knew who would most likely watching and lurking in some corner, always to ensure Ambriella was doing her best. Louisa was always looking after her, reminding her of her place far too often. Ambriella checked once more to ensure her blouse was still tucked into the skirt, mentally reminding herself to look as simple as possible.

After much time had passed, Ambriella began to feel the familiar ache in her legs and released a quiet, yet slow, breath to ease the tension. She had been standing in the same spot for what felt like hours, though was aware there were many more ahead. Ambriella let out a deep breath as she stealthily moved her legs without it disturbing her floor length skirt. She knew she could make it through the evening, but for now, she let herself wish she were anywhere else.

A line of sweat crept down her back from the warm temperature of the room, and she held in the urge to wince. The thick skirt was rough against her skin and mixed with the sweat, it made the pain in her hip nearly unbearable. It was the same black color she always wore, but this was the only one that held no rips or tears, not markings of her years in manual labor. As she looked down, she longed for the hours when she might remain in the sun, letting the thought wash over her for a few moments. It was such a reprieve from her undesirable life and helped her forget each moment like this.

Ambriella faced forward as a loud applause rang throughout the air, watching as the bride and groom moved through the room. She could not hide the smile from her face as she eyed the scene before her, the beautiful couple looking happy and content. The bride was immaculate, leaving not only her fresh husband, but also the entire room in awe. They walked slowly as they were introduced and moved towards the main table, the wedding party following moments later.

Ambriella could only eye the scene from her place, the entire room oblivious to her presence, but that was as it should be. Her eyes constantly moved to the couple as time progressed, watching every move and whisper, a sense of longing replacing her boredom. And as the dancing began, starting with their first dance, she felt a sensation similar to envy growing. Although she knew the validity of the couple’s relationship and the small chance their happiness would last, the feeling still loomed, a reminder that it could never be her.

This was the happiest day in the young woman’s life, the entire world staring, loving, whispering, and eyeing her with desire. All the months, or mere weeks in this case, of decisions and planning had finally been put into effect. Anyone who laid eyes on the room could see the results turned out perfectly. The room had been transformed into the woman’s own personal opus, and she, the centerpiece.

Ambriella furrowed her brow as the groom stood just feet behind her, a look of pure awe and admiration filling his eyes. He watched as she wowed the room, practically sending every man to his knees. But in those single moments when that bride faced her husband, she saw only him, something not witnessed for the first time. But ultimately, it was not her own evening and Ambriella grew to feel forced to watch the display. She resorted to counting inside her head to pass the time, fighting her own internal jealousy of the moment. The couple continued with the playful banter and declarations of love, causing their mothers to weep. She heard the various whispers of the ceremony, the rumors of the man, full and constant despite the event.

At the mention of him breaking down during the vows or the woman barely able to walk down the aisle without hysterics, caused Ambriella to shiver with distaste. The groom was not the man most imagined; he was not kind or jovial, but heartless, something she had learned long before. Quietly clearing her throat, Ambriella felt her mood lighten slightly as the guests began to approach her one by one. It eased the time to pass in an eager smoothness. But these people were not kind, and much like the groom, rather treated her like post other workers, reminding her of her status. It was as though they thought she could forget.

As the afternoon turned to evening, the ache her back seemed to worsen. The nicer shoes she rarely wore burned into her feet, though she continued to hold her facade as each of the guests came to get their fill of the wine or liquors. Every few moments, she glanced towards the main table, wary of its occupants and hoped she could stay inconspicuous.

At eighteen, Ambriella was more than willing to admit she was isolated, but each part of her day was filled with a reason and purpose. And there was nothing inside of her that would allow her to discount that. Despite the lingering punishments, she was attuned to the life, she knew what to expect and survived on it. But she moved her thoughts aside and continued wiping the counters before her, keeping from the sight of the many. Ambriella cast her eyes down as each person passed, focusing only on the task at hand. She moved behind the drink counter, organizing, and removing each dirty glass that had been left behind.

After a few moments, she glanced up at the couple once again, and shook her head, slightly annoyed now. The groom was looked upon by his wealth and status, no one knowing how truly vile he and his family could be. The thought had Ambriella so consumed, she was completely unaware of the boy that now occupied the other end of the counter.

“’Tis ridiculous, is it not?” he laughed. Ambriella looked up at him, most startled that he had spoken to her. He flashed a wide grin, and she was unsure of the smile on his face, but knew what to do, and quickly dropped her eyes from his form.

“Not necessarily ridiculous,” she spoke slowly, wary of him, of all of them. She glanced towards him and released a breath before speaking, “Just slightly unrealistic.”

“How so?” he mused. She shrugged her shoulders in the most improper fashion and waved her arm against her waist, fingers pointing throughout the room.

“Well, perhaps you look around,” she reasoned, growing more confident as she spoke. “Everyone in this room is watching and wishing their own marriages, or potential courtships, could be like theirs.”

“And you do not think they will?” he asked, and she shook her head. Ambriella slowly met his eyes and she was surprised at the unabashed curiosity that filled his dark orbs.

“No, I believe that type of love is written far too often and farfetched, would you not say?” she responded after a moment. “This true love people speak of exists with conflicts and betrayals. Each day together is a fight and a struggle to survive, a true test for those to stay together.”

“Sounds like this love is more about hate,” he said with a playful tone in his voice. Ambriella resisted the urge to smile as she spoke again, seeming to forget her place in his presence.

“You may not like each other every day,” she reasoned. “But if I were to follow their explanation of love,” she said softly, wary of others listening to the spiteful conversation, “then I suppose, the love is always there, one just has to be willing to fight for it.”

“I take you know about this type of love,” he said with a sad smile. Ambriella shook her head, pouring him another glass of the wine, watching as he took a small sip.

“Not at all,” she answered easily. “But I know a lie when I see one.”

“And they are lying?” he asked, his eyebrows rising slightly. A smile played at the corner of his lips as he continued to watch her, and Ambriella nearly blushed at his scrutiny, knowing now that she’d lost her place, yet again. It was uncommon for anyone to look at her directly, especially a man of his status, which made it unnerving.

“Although that couple is happy today,” she answered honestly, unsure of why she was doing so. “Who is to say they will be tomorrow, or the next day, or in, say thirty years.”

“But where’s the lie in that?” he countered.

“And if there is no love, this mirage fools you as well?” she asked him, pushing when she should hold back.

“A mirage,” he repeated. His eyes continued to remain playful as he awaited her answer, a smile playing at his lips, “I suppose I do not understand what you mean.”

“Okay,” Ambriella spoke slowly, questioning how this would keep her from any trouble. “From far away it looks beautiful and entrapping,” she said as her eyes remained on the couple, “but as you to step closer, the layers fall, revealing only emptiness in their wake.”

“So, you believe love will never happen?” he asked softly. His eyes bore into hers and Ambriella shook her head again, unnerved by the way he was standing. It was as though he could read her soul, something she kept very dear to herself. Still, her eyes remained on his face as she spoke again, feeling bold despite her circumstance, giving in to the urge to continue the conversation.

“No,” she finally responded. “It might be to some, but not for these two.”

“Never, hm?” He chuckled.

“No,” Ambriella repeated, nodding as she watched him from the corner of her eye, not bothering to see if others were approaching.

“And why is this?” he asked leaning further across the counter. He raised an eyebrow, and she bit her lip to hold in the heat from rising to her cheeks. She had not held a conversation with this type of depth in quite some time.

“Because I-,” she hesitated, answering slowly with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Their parents are far too much involved.”

“Sure,” he argued playfully, speaking as though he agreed with her. She began to purse her lips at the atrocity of him continuing the conversation as it was but responded anyway.

“Yes,” she nodded without argument. Ambriella stared at him for a long moment, waiting for him to answer, fearing she had spoken too much. He began to smile again, and she continued, “But I would be right in my assumption that you already know?”

“I do,” he nodded. His eyes softened as he stared and Ambriella turned from his gaze. It was growing far too inappropriate and she shifted towards the far end of the counter.

Ambriella looked over to him as he stood straight once more, but leaned over the table, using one arm for support. He reached his other hand forward and she was immediately taken aback by how he wanted her hand, considering her status. Despite his improper behavior, he continued unashamed, and she could see his haughty demeanor shining through as she continued to watch him, his hand now inches from her.

“Nicholas,” he spoke calmly.

Ambriella held in a gasp as she realized who she’d been speaking to all this time. The prodigal son had returned for the wedding and she’d just made a fool of herself in front of the heir. It’d been a long time since she’d last seen him and he’s grown well, a thought that made the blush on her cheeks darken considerably and she knew he’d be able to tell.

“I know,” she responded finally, wishing she’d not made a fool of herself, certain a punishment was to follow. She gave a short nod and did not return his gesture. Nicholas gave her a slow smile as he dropped his hand, and they stood for several moments without speaking. She was somehow grateful for the unexpected silence.

Nicholas finally lifted his glass, as though to say thanks, and turned as his name was called. Ambriella watched as he gave her one final glance before slowly returning to the main table, resuming his seat between the groom and his brother, whom she knew far too well. She realized now how fatal her error in judgement would be and didn’t glare to look and see who might have noticed her indiscretion.

Still, Ambriella found she couldn’t help herself, staring for a moment towards Nicholas. But the smile that had formed on her lips faded as her gaze shifted to the one beside him, feeling a weighted chill as his brother met her eye, and she knew he had seen it all. And when Nicholas glanced her way once more, Ambriella instantly turned away, fearing the truth was lingering amongst them.

Perhaps at the same time she’d not known his name, he knew all about her. There were certain things that could not change, should not shift from the way they were. It was how it was meant to be, what would always be. Besides, there was nothing worse than the impending punishment, fully aware it was coming now. And what could be worst than the older boy knowing everything. That perhaps Nicholas did too.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“The wise man in the storm prays to God, not for safety from danger, but for deliverance from fear.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson_

Ambriella held her lips tightly together, holding in a yawn as she moved through the crooked, narrow hallway. The stairs always made her heart race and her insides quiver with fright. Overall, she did not scare easy, but there were too many reminders in the darkness to hide from. There were various tunnels throughout the estate that had her wary of who she might encounter.

The stairs were not so bad later on in the day, with the bright sunlight, but first thing in the morning, when the sun had not yet risen, the thick cement left a dark blur over her day. At times, like a bleak warning, begging her to turn back and retreat to her tiny room. Ambriella tightened her fists and released a deep breath, forcing herself to relax, and attempted to let all of her cares go in the vast gloom that surrounded her.

As she maneuvered up the steep ways, Ambriella moved carefully, listening as her noises were echoed throughout this area of the giant home. She finally breathed a sigh as the candlelight was seen through the line at the bottom of the door. Holding in a groan of dismay, she shivered unpleasantly at the recognizable sound of Louise’s voice. Her hand instinctively went to her hip and ensured her skirt was covering the wounded area. It was fruitless to concern the Head of the Household with such frivolous things.

The shrill intensity of her voice caused Ambriella’s heart to race again, but for far different reasons this time. It sounded as though Louisa was in the kitchen and undoubtedly waiting for her, not scolding anyone else this time. She hurried now, no longer trying for silence as she moved along the remaining stairs, knowing she had already been cutting her time close. She should have arisen when her eyes first opened, rather than procrastinate as she had.

“Ambriella,” Louisa greeted curtly as the younger girl stepped through the wooden entrance of the kitchens. “I thought I heard you coming.” Ambriella nodded and moved to grab her apron from the hook on the wall, her uniform until midday.

“Yes, ma’am,” she spoke obediently. She glanced around the counter where Louisa still stood before turning to her, “Where is the menu?” Louisa handed her the list from her pocket, and Ambriella glanced over the selection for the day. She held in the urge to sigh and kept her lips formed in a straight line to keep from saying anything unpleasant.

Ambriella focused on the task at hand and immediately began pulling out her needed supplies from the wall, listening for the older woman to begin the expected lecture. However, Louisa continued to stand watching her, as if rooted in place. When Ambriella moved to the far wall, pulling out the needed fruits, Louisa moved with her. Ambriella attempted to pay no heed to her lingering presence, knowing she might speak eventually, as Louisa often did when it came to her presence in the household.

“Ambriella,” Louisa finally did speak, and the younger maid nearly sighed with relief. A maid Ambriella had not noticed retreated from her place at the sink, leaving the two of them alone, and she inwardly pondered if there was a purpose to the action. The older woman’s voice grew soft, but instead of comfort, Ambriella dreaded the coming words. “We need to talk about this past weekend.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she responded monotonously.

Louisa moved to stand in front of her, stopping her as she attempted to move to the sink. Despite allowing her to continue on previous occasions, this time was different, and desperation seeped through Ambriella, causing her to understand now what was happening. She stopped and set the fruits on the wooden board and though she turned towards Louisa’s firm frame, Ambriella did not meet her harsh gaze. Her eyes were trained only on the strawberries she was supposed to be washing, wishing she could now be removing all remnants of the dirt and leaves. Louisa huffed from beside her, but Ambriella continued to stand still, despite knowing how easily she could fall behind.

“Your appearance was appalling,” Louisa’s voice hardened as she spoke again, “we have spoken of this a number of times.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ambriella nodded in understanding, knowing not to say anything sassy just then. It would only make things worse for herself. She held in a sigh at the expected discussion, it was common knowledge that the girl did not fit in with the desired eminence.

Ambriella was not like the other maids. She did not fit in as required and her presence was unkept and body mishappened. Her hips were too wide, hair too frizzy, face too plain, chest too flat, feet too large. She had been born awkward and unpleasing, even as a child. She constantly stood out from the crowd, much to Louisa’s dismay. She glanced to the older woman to see her still watching as she stood, and spoke, “I had no time to prepare; I was not scheduled to work the evening, as you know.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Louisa seethed, clearing unimpressed with her reasoning. “But I still expect more from you and have yet to show it.”

“I am sorry, ma’am,” Ambriella answered evenly, staring down at the floor once again. There was a spider a few inches from her toes, but she did not dare motion towards it. She finally turned away, assuming she was dismissed and reached for the strawberries. She stepped to the tub of blueberries and blackberries, pulling them out by the handful, and dumping them into the colander.

“The point is, no matter where you are,” Louisa continued in the same tone, drawing this out far too long, in Ambriella’s thoughts, and she wondered if there was more she was not saying. “You have an image to uphold, child, especially in this household.”

“I understand,” Ambriella nodded, moving to the next fruit. “I honestly did try. Were there many complaints?”

“No,” Louisa answered, her tone softening. Ambriella relaxed slightly and Louisa stepped back, speaking again, “But you are lucky.”

“I know, ma’am,” Ambriella nodded, knowing exactly who to blame if there had been a true issue among the family of the household. She shifted along the side of the wooden counter with the clean fruit. She began cutting and twisting the fruit, as she been taught as a small child, before placing it on the plate for the breakfasts.

“Alright,” Louisa nodded. “I have other obligations to which I must attend. Unfortunately, you are the least of my worries this morning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am,” Ambriella answered mechanically. Her body felt the unease of the situation, but knew what was expected of her, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Not now,” Louisa answered quickly. She stepped back to walk away but paused once more, and though Ambriella did not turn, she knew it was personal now. “I need you to recognize your expectations, and next time I expect you to follow through, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ambriella nodded as she moved to grab more plates. She continued to prep while the morning’s cook began to prepare the hot portions of breakfast. Louisa gave him a warm welcome and he immediately returned it, and she noted it was unlike the greeting Ambriella had received.

“Ambriella,” Louisa started again. “Remember what I said… keep in mind, you are not disposable.” Ambriella nodded and inwardly sighed as the sound of the closing door echoed throughout the room, marking her exit.

The rest of the morning followed much smoother than it had begun. Ambriella continued with her usual routine, preparing the breakfast and then the following along with the cleanup. She assisted in further groundwork with a small prep for the evening meal, knowing the next maid would appreciate the assistance. Ambriella went along with whatever was needed, as she was not officially assigned to any given location. She simply did what was required of her, as she had been doing since arriving at the estate as a small child. 

She was often on time constraints because she always took longer than expected with her tasks, but Ambriella never left anything behind. It was her appearance that was most often the complaint, not what she had done with her time. Dinner was always an issue for the household staff. It was not uncommon for one of the members of the household to change their minds, and order something different than what they had made. It was her job to attend to their needs, and this included any food craving that happened to occur on any given day, at any given time.

At midday, Ambriella took her short meal before commencing her afternoon duties. She consumed her sandwich greedily, eating every crumb before leaving the kitchen. Her meals were often taken this way, hurried and out of the eyes of any onlookers. Afterward, Ambriella moved swiftly towards the west hall, sighing with discontent over her afternoon tasks. As per usual, she took the back passageways, knowing no one but she and Louisa used them. It was in the west hall that her afternoon chores began, including dusting, washing the windows, and sweeping the floors. Despite the number of rooms, her duties were required in only the southwest library and two studies. There were also a number of bedrooms in the corridor, but luckily, it was none of her concern for the time being.

The three areas she cleaned were vast and cold as they rarely held occupants. Had they been privy to more visitors in this wing, Ambriella knew her job would be much more in depth, as the much main areas of the house were. Though, outside of events such as the wedding, she was not allowed in them, as it had been reminded to her years before. This home was her duty, not a place for amusements and playing. Though circumstances had differed then, and she was much younger than her now eighteen years.

Ambriella glanced warily towards the southernmost study; it held the eldest of the boys on occasion, much to her dismay. When not in need of her, he could be found with some poor soul hoping to become the next Mistress. She shuddered at the thought of him as she entered the first study, praying he had found other activities to keep occupied today, she was not in the mood to handle him. He would find her if necessary, for his needs, he was quite skilled to that effect.

As she moved across the study, Ambriella sighed to herself, feeling the monotony of her days. While cleaning, it allowed her thoughts to shift and consider all that surrounded her. The days and weeks were so predictable and routine, holding the same rotation that she had followed the last many years. It was mundane in so many ways, yet there were brighter moments, such as the interaction at the wedding, which she had yet to be held accountable for. Not a word had been spoken to her of her behavior, though she was constantly wary of that thought.

She thought of her strict schedule, wishing that for a short while she could have some variation. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, she worked the kitchen until midday, then the west hall until nightfall, then kitchen clean up. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays, she worked the East hall, which was much heavier work detail, between midmorning and the early evening, and going to the kitchen for the nighttime clean up. Saturdays were free, except for the previous one. And occasionally she was expected in the kitchen for breakfast prep. It was a heavy schedule, but predictable.

Ambriella always sighed with relief on these afternoons, the library was a second home to her, and unbeknownst to Louisa, her own personal study. She would purposefully clean the library last. She always had a book chosen, either one from the days before, or the list hidden under her bed. It was not often that the staff learned things such as how to read a book, but as a child, her mother had ensured she would find a way to attend school. It had never happened, but she made sure to continually find ways to read, her only way to remember the wonderful that raised her.

Ambriella found ways to escape, despite all that surrounded her world, especially on her days in the library. She would hide in the dark corner, her duster in hand in case the large door opened, revealing someone important. It was a game she had perfected and, in the years, since she had begun this rotation, and only once had she been on the verge of discovery. Her reading was one joy in her world of repetitiveness, one she held dear. Many in her status knew not how to read, but her mother had protected her in that way.

Ambriella released a breath as she finished the last of the library, a sense of ease washing over her and she brushed her hair from her face as she found her favorite corner. She dreamed of a day when she could have her own home, everything particular, but the way she wanted it to be, not chosen by anyone else. She knew such thoughts were frivolous, but it was still a dream she longed to have. Sighing at the thought, she tucked the broom near the exit after she’d finished with it, along with her other supplies. Shutting the door almost completely, she walked towards the back as her skirt shifted with each step she took.

A smile formed on her normally even features as she found her personal gift, knowing full well it was not hers, but the words etched on the pages were enough to remind her that not all was bleak. Her duster remained under her arm as she neared the shelf in the back. Throughout the day, she had been tensing and she felt ready for a few moments to relax. She pulled the book, ready to hide behind the words of Shakespeare and his tale of the shrew, if necessary. She adjusted her shirt as she reached to the chair; her boots shifting as she leaned towards the chair, ready to sit.

“Miss?” she froze solid at the sound of the male voice behind her. Her heart raced as her hand dropped, and as she turned, her eyes widened as she took in the sight of the owner of the voice. With her fright, she dropped the book, causing a scene on the floor at her feet.

“Miss, what are you doing here?” As soon as she’d recovered, she dropped her gaze away from Nicholas’ face. Her arms moved behind her back as she stood, staring only at her skirt and the dirt she hadn’t realized was present on the front, most obviously from the cleaning duties.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered wearily, glancing up at him only once. She looked down towards the book and wished she had thought to shove it back into place, but his presence had been so unexpected. There would undoubtedly be a punishment and that thought, Ambriella moved to step around him, but he immediately blocked her escape, causing her breath to catch in fright.

“Ambriella,” Nicholas spoke again, his voice considerably lighter, as though he was playing a game. She glanced towards him briefly, shocked to see a smile still gracing his face. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yes, sir,” she nodded, forcing her eyes on the floor.

“When I saw you at the wedding, I simply thought you were just filling in,” he spoke again, stepping towards her. Ambriella did not meet his eyes as she continued to widen the space between them, fearful of being too close to him. She knew what would happen to those that did, but to her relief, he finally released a deep breath and stepped back.

“I was, Sir,” she answered evenly, inwardly calculating how she could get out of this situation. She glanced at the large space between them and made one step towards the exit, “Now, if you will please excuse me, sir, I really need to finish my work. I should not have stopped.”

“I wish you would call me Nicholas,” he released a sound of disapproval, but she knew what it meant if a member of the house asked for a first name. They became vile and cruel, and she did not want to consider the wonderful conversation from the week before in that way. Instead, she shook her head. Ambriella’s eyes found his shining shoes, the deep contrast from the worn look hers bore. He spoke again and she felt a sense of unease fill her.

“You were much more relaxed the other night,” he spoke in such a gentle tone that she found herself wanting to give in. She then noted the sadness filling his tone, and it caused her chest to tighten. She didn’t like that either. Her eyes lifted to his, yet she did not dare say a word to ruin what had to be between them. They would never be friends or anything similar, it was not proper.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she finally broke the silence, voice soft as an unfamiliar feeling coursed through her stomach. Ambriella could feel his eyes on her, but she had already looked away, knowing better than to look up again. “Please pardon my words, Sir, it won’t happen again.”

“It is a shame,” he muttered before stepping back and with his sudden movements, she realized he was angry as he stormed out of the vast room, the large door slamming in the process.

Ambriella felt the startle as the sound resonated throughout the room, yet she did not move, only stood as though her feet were rooted to the floor. She glanced towards the book, knowing it would have to wait until for another two days, though it didn’t hold the excitement it had only minutes before. Nicholas’ words continued to replay in her mind, though she didn’t understand why. He was the heir; she was simply Ambriella, a girl lost within circumstance.

It was not much later when Ambriella returned to the kitchens and she saw the present chef was working and sighed, knowing he was not nearly as easy to work with as others. She made a small sandwich and sat at the table in the corner, eating her food in silence. Once she finished, Ambriella moved quickly and quietly, her body stiffening as the other turned to face her. She ignored him, instead gathered the dirty pots and pans, already waiting for his hour to be up when he would go, leaving her alone. She stood as she started her dishwater, the new sink took a long time to fill and she kept her hands busy by scraping the pans into the bin through the back.

“Bria,” he spoke, his voice teasing and playful from his end of the kitchen. Ambriella visibly stiffened at his wretched name for her but she did not respond. She could never give him the satisfaction. Instead, she hurried her dishes, anything to avoid facing him.

The boy was intolerable, and she never understood his odd behavior. Each night left her with chills down her spine, different from the familiar. As he began to approach her again, the door suddenly opened and she glanced to see Nicholas entering, his anger from the library seemingly dissipated. She continued her task as the chef approached Nicholas, his malicious demeanor exchanged with a now submissive one.

“A plate, please,” Nicholas stated calmly, “For mother.” Ambriella could not help herself, watching as he nodded and set to work. There was a sense of confusion as she looked on, knowing any member of the staff could have done this for him, yet Nicholas had come through their corridors. He did not look at her, almost as if on purpose, and she could nearly cringe at the increased tension set in the air.

Ambriella was supposed to be working, but instead watched him from the corner of her eye, feeling her cheeks warm as his gaze shifted towards hers. Her lips parted slightly at how soft and gentle he seemed in that moment, so different from his family. She could hear the cook behind her, but her hands continued to slow, the dishes becoming less important as Nicholas’ eyes felt more interesting. He suddenly gave her a warm smile, and she watched as his eyes focused on the food being made.

She knew it was wrong, but felt an urge to return the smile, though refrained, knowing how improper it would be. But still, she could see a slight pink that appeared to fill his cheeks. Ambriella released a small huff of breath as the cook spoke, startling him and Nicholas visibly jumped at the sound. Their cook appeared to have missed it, but this boy, far more luxurious than she, did not and stared inappropriately into her eyes as he spoke to the cook.

“Thank you,” Nicholas gave him a small nod. “Miss,” he said softly, so only she could hear as he slowly exited the room, her eyes following him out the door.

She listened to the sounds of the kitchen being cleaned once more, and the furthering grumbles of the cook as he moved angrily around the counters, cleaning the mess that the request had made. Ambriella was relieved now as she knew that he wouldn’t say a word to her as he finished his work in the kitchens. He was too caught up and resentful towards the family that was now making him leave late. Though Ambriella knew, it was only his need to go home and nurse a pint.

It was well after night had fallen when he finally departed, and it was Ambriella’s favorite part of the evening. A large part of her responsibility was to finish cleaning the rest of the kitchen, but now she could relax. Though she was alone, even if she finished early, Ambriella never dared leaving before her expected time as Louisa was sure to find out. She always knew everything that happened, resulting in a high rate of dismissed employees, and Ambriella learned quickly never to make friends.

Once her dishes were completed, Ambriella moved to the floor, sweeping, and mopping the room. She did a final inventory of the pantry before doing one last sweep, smiling as she deemed it clean. Moving to sit at the counter, Ambriella attempted to avoid falling asleep. Soon enough she would be asleep on the crooked mattress that was in her own quarters. When it was time, she blew out the rear set of candles, preparing to leave.

But before she could, she nearly gasped as the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway. She curled into the corner, covering her mouth to hide her breathing as the footsteps resonated, lingering at first, and then steadily growing louder. She watched as the intruder slowly opened the door, and she was trembling all over, knowing what was coming next. Still, she refused to give into him, and she stayed where she was, despite the front candle indicating her presence.

The sound was eerie as the steps continued, moving far too close to her trembling body. She closed her eyes in an attempt to pretend it wasn’t happening. It’d been a while, and the familiarity had faded. Her hands moved tight over her mouth to hide her breaths, but it was to no avail, the footsteps were nearly beside her. She listened intently, unable to focus on anything else, when he spoke, yet it was not the sound she expected.

“Ambriella?” she immediately stood at the sound of Louisa’s voice. Her eyes remained wide as the older woman stared at her, “My goodness child, what are you doing back there?”

“N-nothing, Ma’am,” she stuttered, quickly smoothing out her skirt and blouse, knowing she must appear a mess, “You just startled me.” Louisa shook her head as she glanced around the room, as though aware of her lie, but she chose not to comment on it straight away.

“Who else would you expect?” Louisa asked eventually, and Ambriella shook her head, releasing a low breath. Louisa turned, dropping the subject, but she still responded.

“N-no one,” Ambriella said quietly as she released several deep breaths to ease her still racing heart. Louisa turned to face her, and she nodded, “No one, but you, ma’am.”

“Why don’t you go on to sleep?” Louisa said, as though it was a suggestion, but Ambriella knew it was not. She stood, waiting for the confirmation she could leave. “Everything looks good here,” Louisa stated, surprising the younger girl, “it looks as though you could use the reward.”

“I am tired tonight,” Ambriella admitted in a slow lie. She stood as Louisa continued to survey the equipment and gave the older woman a small nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You did better tonight,” Louisa commented as she blew out the last set of candles.

Ambriella nodded as she turned towards her doorway, watching as Louisa walked down the farther hall. Just when she was about to follow, her eyes snapped towards a figure in the distance and knew now it was not only Louisa who she had heard. She barely held in a gasp at the sight, unable to avoid his repulsive gaze as he stared. Without lingering a moment longer, Ambriella quickly turned before he had a chance to follow, but knew it was to no avail, he would always find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are fabulous.


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“All secrets are deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets” – Cory Doctorow_

Though she did not remember much of her childhood, Ambriella recalled the vivid dreams she often had, filled with warmth and feelings that no longer existed in her world. Occasionally, she might grow reminiscent, reliving those late nights and early mornings, where her bright dreams simply created a delightful day with her mother. But anymore, the feeling was so rare, and it had Ambriella wondering if it had ever been real.

She could recall a few of the hopes she had held for herself at that time, for her sister, for her entire family, but those grew in vain with her changing circumstance. She’d arrived at the Jonas estate, but it was still a long time before those visions faded. It was hard, but she grew to understand she would not go back. Her family was no more. 

When she awoke to the fanciful images in her head two mornings in a rose, Ambriella knew something was different. There was no word for it, and there was certainly not an explanation. With her focus on other things, her fears, and insecurities so evident, she longed for a breath to feel the warmth again. She fought to keep it there, but easily shied away from the sudden hope lingering in her mind. It was a notion that she had not felt in too long, an idea she feared because nothing good ever came from hoping frivolous things, not in this circumstance.

A wide yawn escaped Ambriella’s lips when she moved to sit at the edge of her bed, the dreams once again lingering in her mind. There was an urge to smile, but she held back, strengthening the resolve to avoid those thoughts. As was her custom, she woke early, even on days she did not need to. After the images that were remaining in her mind, nothing like the dreams she once had, Ambriella was relieved at the thought of a morning to herself without specific duties to be completed.

Ambriella glanced towards her tattered bureau in the corner, pursing her lips at the sight of her wrinkled skirt and blouse atop the counter. It’d been nearly a week since her last run in with Louisa, an almost calming thought in the back of her mind. It meant that perhaps she’d been doing a thing or two correctly, though that was rarely the case. It simply meant he was not paying her mind, though deep down, she knew the ease of it would not last for long.

Sliding from the bed in a relaxed manner, another yawn escaped her and despite her restless sleep, wanted to feel better. She shifted cautiously, a reminder of the last encounter with him and her gaze dropped to her hip, wincing at the sight of the growing mark. It would be difficult to pretend it didn’t exist on some days, but today, she wished it did not hurt as it did now. Still, there were things to do to take her mind off it. A quick glance towards the space in the wall showed the rising sun and it appeared to join in with a clear sky. Cautious of her wound, Ambriella stood and stretched, preparing to wash up.

She grabbed the blouse and corresponding skirt from the bureau, quietly wiping at the wrinkles that always plagued the fabric. She wore her work boots, her only pair, knowing she would only have a moment to change, if Louisa called upon her. Despite that knowledge, Ambriella let her hair down, feeling it flow far down her back to her waist. She loathed pulling it back for work. It was thick and unkept most times, but she felt positive about it today. Her hair was one feature that she truly treasured.

Escaping the room was the easiest part of the morning, as no one would be near at this hour, but, at the same time, knew to always be on guard. She walked through the passageways, a borrowed book held tightly to her chest as she moved, having memorized them as a small child and knew which entrance led to which room of the estate. She released a slow breath as she exited out a barely kept door in the back, leading her to her favorite place. The garden was empty as usual. She liked it this way, peaceful and serene where she could exist as though the only one in existence. It was a place she found herself at every free moment, only truly allowed once in passing, but did not question it again for fear of denial.

Finding her spot, one hidden in the corner away from sight, Ambriella quickened her steps. With a book in hand, skirt held in the other, Ambriella walked towards the large tree, pausing to crouch before the growing tulips. They smelled remarkable and it brought a small smile to her lips. She stood once more but sighed sadly as she spotted the mud already marking the fabric of her skirt. This would displease Louisa. The constant line of dirt around the hem was familiar, but not welcome. She had hoped to keep it clean a few days more.

Ambriella breathed a sigh as she sat in her needed place and closed her eyes as she leaned against the tree. She felt the soft wind blow through the air, moving her free hair and she released a soft hum of contentment. It was nice to be free and alone, and in her silent meditation she did not hear the approaching steps.

“Miss?” Ambriella startled, a loud gasp escaping her lips and she moved her hand to her chest. The boy chuckled as he sat on the swing, several feet away from her. Nicholas. Her heart pounded erratically and he simply stared off to the side, as though he hadn’t noticed her presence. “I was looking for you… you’ve been difficult to find.”

“I fear you have come in vain, boy,” Ambriella hissed despite herself. She knew what speaking to the family this way would bring, but she felt her moments had now been stolen from her, and it was Nicholas’ fault. Ambriella quickly stood with her borrowed book tight in her fist, away from his view. Having borrowed it from the library, caught with the book in her possession would be nothing short of a dismissal.

“Miss,” Nicholas called out. Ambriella remained away from him but slowed to a stop. She feared adding another potential reasoning for discharge, such as ignoring the boy’s orders.

“Yes, Sir,” Ambriella murmured obediently, struggling to hold her disdain. She stiffened at the tense sigh behind her and abstained from the urge the look back. She did not want to know what he might be thinking just then. The evening at the wedding had given her enough insight to know it was better to keep her distance.

“You may go,” Nicholas finally responded. Despite herself, Ambriella turned, surprised to find him watching her so intently. Though she refused to meet his eyes, she could see much emotion written across his face. She was perplexed and hesitated, standing before him for several moments before she could properly respond.

“Good day, Sir,” she murmured softly. Nicholas nodded in response, causing her to question her resolve. There were assumptions in the back of her mind, but he had her wondering if they were true, if he was as his brothers were.

“Miss,” Nicholas replied with a slow nod. Ambriella stood still, not moving as she felt rooted to the ground. She sought to find clarity, understanding, and there was a part of her that wanted to know this strange boy. However, for now, she could not search. It was another frivolous notion, wondering if she could speak to him without fear, but instead of investing more into that idea, she turned away without another word.

It wasn’t often that Ambriella struggled to catch herself, her mouth, and thoughts too bold for her station. Sometimes, she wanted to cry out and scream, pleading for someone to know, but she could not. Still, as the days passed, the Nicholas began to offer himself more, making his presence when she needed to keep her space. It was downright infuriating to have to deal with such a consequence. Ambriella cursed herself for having spoken out in such a fashion at the wedding. Perhaps, she would not have the attention of the young boy, causing her fear to grow more each day.

Ambriella felt herself growing more irritable with time, feeling that the boy was now insufferable. It not only affected her work, but her ability to ignore others. There was a new cook, named Matthew, and he had become deplorable, using her station to his advantage without reason. Though she had grown used to the wretched man as days moved on, his behaviors were far worse than others she encountered, and it left her feeling uneasy with each encounter.

Matthew was simply an addition to her hectic days that Ambriella certainly did not need, much like the insistent Nicholas. But with Nicholas, there was a layer of acceptance. At points, it felt like a childhood game she’d play with her sister. He would wait and she would avoid his gaze, hiding the odd urge to smile, because she knew what would happen if she did. It would encourage his inappropriate behavior. She couldn’t help but wonder why he toyed with her so, why he continued to play when there were so many others in the household.

Ambriella stumbled into the kitchen one morning, arriving earlier than usual after a rough night. Her mind would not settle, and she barely slept. She always tried to arrive first but today was going to be a tough one to bear. She stumbled through the door, easing herself to steady, despite the lingering pain in her hip, hoping to avoid the reminder that he’d found her yet again. Moving slowly, she prepared the first of the breakfast items with little restraint.

A short while later, the morning cook arrived, leaving Ambriella to appear well, no small feat in her state. As always, Ambriella prevailed without fail. It was a common goal of hers, one that could not afford to suffer. Louisa entered the room minutes after the cook, but she could not hide from the knowledgeable older woman.

“Ambriella,” she hissed sternly. The tone of her voice caused Ambriella to shiver as she turned to stare up at her, “what of you now, child?”

“Miss Louisa,” she whispered evenly, trying to quickly sort her thoughts and recent lies, “I fell.” Her voice quivered despite herself and she hated the thought of someone overhearing her tragedies.

“I have heard of Mr. Matthew’s conquest,” Louisa said after a moment. Ambriella’s eyes grew wide and she nodded, unsure of what the woman knew and chose not to say more for now.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said obediently. Louisa sighed and gestured for them to walk towards the back door, the milk was due to arrive soon.

“Child, if you were involved,” she started slowly, the level of concern she so often tried to hide seeping through her voice. Ambriella realized there was more to know that of what she was aware, “you will be gone as well.”

“I knew nothing of it, ma’am,” Ambriella murmured, honest in that moment. There were always dramatics among the stuff, but she knew her own were rather pitiful. Louisa nodded, appearing to believe her and released a slow breath.

“Very well, then,” Louisa nodded a second time and turned without a word. Ambriella returned to her work, though her focus was not on her ailing scars, but what of herself should she lose her employment.

To her surprise, Louisa released Ambriella of her evening duties, and sent her to the library instead. Ambriella worked slowly, able to fight through the pains with the easier tasks. She did not question the decision for a different location, but she despised the feeling of others nearby, ones not familiar to her routine.

There were many faces eager to reveal another’s secrets, anything to get ahead amongst the staff. There were friends, as Ambriella had once had, but there were far more enemies. She knew she was smart to remain alone; it eased the fear of the outside. Though she had once come on her own, ten years had passed, leaving the outside a jungle. One she could not face.

“Miss,” Ambriella’s eyes closed tight at the sound of the familiar voice of Nicholas. The door shut tightly, and she turned with a start, immediately stepping back as he approached.

“Sir,” she breathed, speaking softer than she meant to. Her voice shook as he moved closer and, in that moment, she wanted to run. Ambriella hands held tightly behind her back and she fought against the urge. It would do nothing. They were always stronger and faster. It hurt more if she struggled

“I will not harm you,” Nicholas stared at her curiously, hands help up as though in surrender. “I simply want to speak with you,” he explained. The boy stepped behind the desk in the corner, his eyes on her as he did so.

“You should not be here,” Ambriella hiss, slowly finding her voice. The boy turned and chuckled, causing Ambriella to cock her head in surprise. Laughter was not a sound she heard often, and this boy seemed far too amused by her honest words.

“I am aware, Miss,” Nicholas stated with a smile. “And I am also aware of the level of impropriety of my actions,” he said after a moment, shrugging his shoulders, “I know not why I do not follow them.”

“Neither do I,” Ambriella said softly. “Why say you, Sir?”

“I know not,” he repeated, and she nodded, turning away from his lingering gaze. “Please, Miss?” his voice softened, and she turned her head back to him, her bottom lip falling between her teeth as he ducked his head down, “May I call you by your name?”

“Why, Sir?” she could barely speak the words, realizing he had not properly asked prior to this moment. At the realization that she wanted to comply with his question. She turned back to him, boldly stepping forward, “what does it mean?”

“I fear I must know,” he responded. “You know mine,” he said quietly, “you know my family. You know my life, but I know not yours… may I?”

“There are reasons for this,” Ambriella returned, almost smiling at his insistence, but she was aware of the atrocity of the action.

“Of these I am aware,” the boy laughed again. “But you, Miss, you might be a bit different,” she shook her head, but he held up a hand to stop her movements, “Listen. You chose to ignore my title… even if just for a few minutes.”

“Many do, Sir,” she mused aloud, fully aware of the number of women vying for a place on each of the boys’ arms. “I am just one, Sir… though not like the others.”

“I know this,” Nicholas nodded, and she knew now they were being too informal. It would be dire for them both if someone should overhear. “I must apologize,” his lips formed a straight line as she stared in confusion, “I did know you before I left, neither in face nor name.”

“There are many here,” Ambriella reasoned. After a few moments, she realized she was slowly moving towards the other. Nicholas smile grew at his own realization and he gently pulled a chair from the table, gesturing towards it.

“May I?” he asked confidently. Ambriella still held a playful look on her lips, more than she wanted to reveal. The gaze in his eyes told her that knew as much as she, she would comply. “If you would, then I might stop seeking a ghost.”

“You may call me Ambriella,” she murmured, her lips turning slightly as a smile formed across his features. Nicholas stared for several moments, his eyes flickering as though searching for hers.

“Miss Ambriella,” he said then, causing a ripple to fill her, a warmth she didn’t understand. He gave a short nod, ducking his head in surrender. She could see him reach for her hand but retracted it moments later, “beautiful name, m’lady.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she responded hesitantly. She had never had one of the households refer to her by name before, not truly, and this was different than she had expected.

“Please call me Nicholas,” he said. Ambriella felt her lips form a small smile and she shook her head slowly, feeling playful in the moment.

“No, Sir,” she responded, forcing her smile to fall from her lips. It was not proper. None of this was right, yet she was fighting against those instincts, her body wanting to move towards his presence. She wanted to know him.

“Very well,” he spoke warmly causing her shoulders to relax further. “I shall give you some time, Miss Ambriella,” he said after a moment of silence, “may I call you such in private, Miss?”

“You may,” she relented, still unsure about this but he seemed assured and it was endearing. Ambriella’s eyes grew wide at the realization that she had agreed to see him in the future and feared the repercussions of such an action.

“I must be on my way, Miss Ambriella,” he said reluctantly, and she felt her chest tighten at the unfamiliar sound of her name. She didn’t want the moment to end, but nodded her head, knowing it must. “I shall see you soon.”

“Good day, Nicholas,” she murmured, the words ghosting across her lips as she gave him something she should not have. Nicholas chuckled softly, his cheeks flushing pink and she felt her chest tighten further. This was so foolish, but as her lips turned into a small smile, Ambriella realized that for these few moments, she was content.

“Very well,” Nicholas said with a short nod. He moved slowly, a smile spreading across his features as he stepped away from the desk and towards the door. He turned after a moment, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “Until we meet again, Miss Ambriella.”

“Sir Nicholas,” she responded with a short swish of her skirt, watching as the door shut behind him. As the silence enveloped her, Ambriella was suddenly aware of the quickened rate of her heart, but unaware of how to ease the tension that encompassed her being. It was so wrong to want these things, to hear someone know of her name and presence, but she could not help herself just then.

A few days after the Nicholas’ last presence, Matthew proved his place once again, his employment still secure at the estate. He had determined to stay late, far later than Ambriella was used to and she loathed him for it. She could smell the lingering scent on his breath, familiar occurrence, but this night had her apprehension at an ultimate high. The alcohol was making him unbearable and she simply wanted her evening to end.

“Sir,” Ambriella finally spoke with his final attempt to stand much too close, “perhaps you might leave. I will finish your duties.” Matthew chuckled as he approached her once more, his hands resting on the counter, placing her in a loose hold between his arms.

“And miss our hours t’gether?” he chuckled. “You know,” he murmured, pressing his front to her back in an all too familiar position, though not used to his weight. “You are a very delightful girl.”

“Please do not,” Ambriella whispered. She cleaned the wood of the table, fighting the urge to run, and focused on her task until he was suddenly leaning closer. She could feel each of his punctuated breaths against her skin and she could not help the shiver of fear that coursed down the center of her back.

“Can I not make you a woman?” he slurred smoothly, and she did not understand why he was behaving this way. Ambriella closed her eyes at the words, hating the way they caused her stomach to tighten and twist in fear.

“No, Sir,” she responded weakly. She pressed into him, struggling to move away, and a hiss escaped her lips at the feeling of him behind her, pressing roughly against her lower back. He was ready to take her, willing or not.

“Eh, you wouldn’t have been good,” he finally stumbled backwards, turning from her. Ambriella breathed a long sigh, fearing he would come back. He did, but only to speak, “you are far too independent, it’ll get ya’ nowhere.”

“Yes’m, it will,” Ambriella stated defiantly, holding her trembling hands firm against the counter. He chuckled and when he lunged towards her, she could not defend herself quickly enough.

His lips were wet against her neck as his fingers squeezed into her wrists and Ambriella whimpered in terror, her body feeling weak. Each touch sent tingling sensations of panic through her blood. She was aware she was not strong enough to restrain him, a notion she understood far too well.

“Excuse me!” a voice boomed, causing all action to cease. Ambriella’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Nicholas, his gaze livid as they bore into Matthew’s eyes. “You are excused,” he stated evenly, “indefinitely.”

Matthew hissed towards Ambriella, curses falling from his lips, all the while slurring, and he spit in her direction. He slammed through the door moments later. Her eyes were wide with fright, and her chest continued to heave as Nicholas stepped towards her, his anger shifting into something she did not recognize.

“Miss,” he said softly, stiffening as the door opened a second time. Ambriella’s eyes grew wide as everything stopped at the sight of _him_. She could not breathe, could not speak, and did not dare glance towards Nicholas, who was smaller than the one before them.

“What has happened?” Kevin hissed, “I heard the ruckus as I waited down the hall.” Ambriella finally gulped, knowing the implications of his words.

“I believe the other attacked her,” Nicholas spoke, glancing towards his eldest brother, “But I have yet to question her.” The older nodded and glanced towards Nicholas, a particularly evil glint in his eyes as he looked to where Ambriella still cowered.

“I shall question her,” he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. “You may go.” He spoke to the Nicholas, and she could see him glance towards her briefly, but she did not acknowledge the action. She couldn’t.

Ambriella stood still as the door shut with an overwhelming finality. Kevin stepped towards her and she closed her eyes, waiting for him to speak as she pretended the night had not occurred. She thought of the dreams as a child, her hopes, and happiness. Many things moved through her mind when he took her once again, but mostly, Ambriella wondered what the boy might have done had his brother not appeared.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent.” – Marilyn vos Savant_

It was later than usual for Ambriella, prone to her own personal schedule and she had ached for a reprieve throughout the early hours of the morning. But upon reaching the garden, she released a deep sigh of relief. It had taken much longer than necessary, her breaths moving much faster than normal in her sore torso. She closed her eyes, slowly leaning on the ground. Her palms lay flat against the grass, cool in the early morning air.

She rested her forehead against the back of her hands, her chest tightening with the awkward position, but she did not move, taking in the pleasant surrounding as she tried to ease the pain she felt at her side. Ambriella remained rooted to the spot, her breaths eventually slowing as she calmed. Continuing to take in the silence, Ambriella let her thoughts roam to the boy who nearly saved her.

“Miss,” she nearly smiled as she heard the voice in her head. He was always so polite, though she never released the terror of a game. “Miss,” this was louder, and she jumped realizing it had come from behind her.

Ambriella bit the inside of her cheek as she lifted her body, moving quickly to hide as though no marks lingered on her body. After a moment, she settled and turned to face him, remaining on her knees as she stared up to him. He gave her a hesitant smile and she feared the look in his eyes, unsure if he could read her lie.

“Sir,” she said with a slow nod. He stepped forward and Ambriella cursed herself for the way her heart raced in apprehension, she failed to hide it by the way the boy slowed his feet.

“May I sit?” he asked hesitantly and Ambriella nodded before she had a chance to stop herself. “Thank you, Miss,” the boy said. When he smiled, Ambriella felt her lips twitch; she wanted to return the gesture but could not.

Ambriella moved the last few feet, her breaths rough until she leaned her back against the tree. She knew by the look in his eye that he had not noticed, though the smile continued to linger on his lips. She felt her cheeks fill with warmth at the realization that she had been staring far too intently.

“I have been in search of your presence,” he spoke suddenly and Ambriella nodded, feeling her chest tighten at the flush that filled his own cheeks. “I apologize,” Nicholas said softly.

“Do not fear,” her voice carried with a sense of confidence she did not recognize, “I judge you not.” He nodded and she felt a smile grow at the edge of her lips, and despite herself, Ambriella let it widen.

“May I use your name?” the boy asked hesitantly and Ambriella nodded, dropping her gaze to her hands in her lap. “Miss Ambriella,” he continued softly, the name a ghost on the edge of his lips.

“Why do you seek me?” she asked in a voice just as quiet. Her eyes shifted to him, taking in the sight of his wringing hands, pursed lips, and then to his eyes. However, she had met his gaze only briefly before, this time she felt drawn to the level of concern.

“I know not,” he responded, as though the reasoning was simple. She jumped as a sudden laugh left his lips, and she dropped her gaze, inwardly smiling to herself at the sound. It brought on many memories, lingering dreams of the past.

“You know,” she smiled to herself, realizing her book still in hand. “Our paths crossed twice this past week; you must not have searched for long.”

“No,” he shook his head. “You were far easier than expected… not in a literal sense, of course.”

“Well, I should hope not,” she spoke lightly, feeling a sense of calm grow. Ambriella glanced to his profile, taking in the sight of his curls, watching as they fell across his forehead. She leaned her back against the tree, slowly opening her book, though she hardly looked at the pages.

“Miss Ambriella,” he said slowly. She nearly blushed at his experimentation with the name, her heart passing its normal pace. “Why had I never seen you? You seem to have worked here for quite some time.”

“Yes, sir,” she nodded, staring at the flowers before her. The exuberant red tulips were among her favorites, and they that made this spot her favorite.

“Please call me Nicholas,” he said gently. She tilted her head to the side but did not meet his gaze as she shook it, “Alright then. I beg of you to leave out the sir.”

“I shall try,” she answered, now unable to hide her amusement. It was an unknown feeling, though one she felt pleased to embrace, as foreign as the concept was.

“Why were you working at the wedding?” Nicholas asked.

“They told me to,” Ambriella responded. She took a quick glance at him and raised an eyebrow, “Why were you wondering? I doubt my whereabouts should be your worry.”

“Well,” he chuckled as his cheeks filled with red. “I mean, I suppose, that is hardly the way to remain hidden.”

“You are right,” Ambriella nodded, glancing down at her hands. “It is not.”

“And rumor has it,” he continued with a playful tone in his voice, “All of society was there.”

“I see you were listening to the bride’s mother,” she mused, glancing back to him and he quickly nodded. 

“I was,” he agreed. “And a bit of mine… I hear the couple is still blissfully happy.”

“Interesting,” Ambriella nodded. “And how must you know that?”

“Oh,” he said slowly. “A letter arrived just this morning.”

“If he made the time to correspond,” she responded. “I would hardly call this a perfect retreat.”

“Comical,” Nicholas laughed. He nodded his head after a moment, “I thought I was the only to think so.”

“Mr. Nicholas,” she said slowly, his name foreign on her tongue as she realized the time. “Why are you not in school? I hardly you doubt you have avoided your responsibilities for your weighty investigation.”

“Miss Ambriella, it is hardly after sunrise,” he reasoned, laughing openly. “My first class is not until midmorning.”

“Hmm,” she answered slowly, her head turning towards him. “Is it now?”

“Well, it is true,” he said slowly, his chest suddenly pressing outwards with his slight change in attitude. “I am not surprised to find you do not know that.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir?” Ambriella spoke boldly.

“I do not find you attending the university,” he spoke the words, but his face immediately filled with a sense of regret. “Pardon my rudeness.” 

“I was merely stating,” she whispered. “Studies are important… I would hate to think you were avoiding classes.”

“I am not,” Nicholas said simply, his tone firm and she instantly recoiled, turning back to face the flowers. “Why are you interested as it is?”

“Honestly?” she asked with a quick glance in his direction and he nodded. “I was most envious when you began your studies at the university last fall.”

“I suppose,” Nicholas shrugged, the austerity fading from his voice. “It is expected, and one day I will have my degree, and then my life might begin.”

“I do not know about this,” Ambriella said slowly, noticing his lack of confidence. “What will you do then? What are your plans Mr. Nicholas, the ones that don’t include the university?”

“I don’t know,” he responded said with a shrug. “What about you? I mean, how much longer you intend to work for my family.”

“Forever,” Ambriella admitted sadly, turning her body to face forward.

“What do you mean?” his voice turned gentle and she didn’t dare turn to look at him. “I would be ignorant not to those who stay for long periods, but Miss, you are so young.”

“Some things are not chosen, Sir,” she said softly. She shifted against the tree, stiffening as his presence felt closer to her.

Ambriella continued to stare ahead as his elbow nearly brushed hers. Her heart rate quickened, though not in fear, and she closed her eyes for a long moment. Upon opening her eyes, she glanced to the side to see his body leaning against the other side of the tree, his hand inches from hers.

“What is not chosen, Miss Ambriella?” he asked carefully. Her jaw hardened as she continued to stare ahead, taking slow deep breaths to soothe her emotions.

“Why can you not stop going to school?” she asked after a while. “I mean, it is not what you want, but you continue to attend… why is this?”

“I suppose,” he sighed. Ambriella shifted her gaze, watching the side of his face as his jaw clenched and unclenched. After several moments, he finally released a deep breath, and she moved her eyes. “I suppose, I see what you mean.”

“Yes,” she nodded slowly.

“How old are you, if I may be so bold?” he asked, the air shifting at the change of subject. “I had assumed you are the same age as I, but you appear… older.”

“I am not,” she nearly smiled at the thought, “Just eighteen this past February.”

“Well, I was not expecting that,” he laughed. The boy suddenly glanced towards her in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke again, “But how long have you worked here?” His body shifted to face hers, but she didn’t acknowledge the movement, only releasing a soft sigh.

“Ten years this past February,” she answered slowly, prepared for an onslaught of questions, but they did not appear.

“And I’ve never known,” Nicholas breathed, slowly shaking his head. Ambriella stared for a moment in confusion before moving to stand. She inwardly smiled to herself as she glanced down at her book, noticing the page, the same to which she had opened the book. She stood for a moment, letting the blood rush back into her legs and ache in her side to shift before looking down to him.

“I am expected,” she stated simply. Ambriella gave him a small nod before walking forward leaving him behind, though still feeling him much closer. She turned before moving too far, giving him a sad smile, “Do not forget your responsibilities at the university, Mr. Nicholas… there are so many people who will never get the opportunities that you have. Please, take advantage of them while you can.”

The boy nodded and Ambriella moved through the far door, out of sight once again. Upon reaching her room, she shut the door and her back remained against the hard surface before putting her book away. Despite it being her day off, she changed into the work uniform, the dark skirt that flowed to her ankles with the corresponding white blouse. Her hair tightened into a low bun and she clipped her many stray hairs back from her face. There was a dinner party, and Ambriella knew she had the possibility of summoned, she so often was.

For the following days, it was all Ambriella could do to get her conversation with the boy out of her mind. Each morning that she sat in the garden, she did not read, each day cleaning the library, she merely sat as he continued to linger in the back of her mind.

It was rare for her to interact with anyone for any type of actual conversation, and she was sure that was why it had stuck with her. She was on the edge as if waiting for someone to come and reprimand her for her tone and blunt words, but no one did. It was as if their encounters had truly remained hidden with no expectations towards the future.

It was midmorning some days later when Ambriella moved into the far closet to grab her bucket and towels. The east hall was much larger and more complex than that of the west hall. That is where most of the bedrooms lay, including that of the boys. The mistress’ rooms were farther down past one of the guest restrooms. Then the end of the hall held the guest bedrooms and finally Louisa’s, though Ambriella did not clean that one.

The maids swept and changed all the linens, but it was Ambriella’s responsibility to pick up the room, dust, clean the windows and walls. Occasionally Louisa would follow behind her, double-checking her work if one of the boys complained, but for the most part, she was alone.

Ambriella always started with the eldest boy first, his room was always the worst, making her often recoil in disgust. The constant disarray of his room told her a lot, but mixed with the hidden truths, was enough to make her even more wary of his existence.

She had met each of the family members at different interludes, but Louisa was her superior, the fact made known as often as the woman would allow it. The Jonas’ had the ultimate control, not only over her, but the entire household, the town, government, they were interweaved into its very existence. Ambriella knew that scenario far too well, a constant reminder as she awoke each morning and went to bed each night.

When Ambriella moved into Nicholas’ room, she had to calm her racing heart. She knew he was not at home, but it did not stop the flicker of hope that had begun the moment she had left the garden, nearly a week prior. As she moved around the room, she took a deep breath calming and allowing the continuation of her job. She forced herself to avoid looking around at his things, his belongings that at one time held no meaning to her, but now, it was changed.

By the time late afternoon hit, she was right on schedule with the duties in the guest bedrooms, though her job never required much in those rooms. Rarely used, but as with the rest of the house, must be upheld in the highest fashion. To her, it was nothing, but the entire house kept as though on display at any moment of any day. Ambriella was merely a pawn in their game, but she knew it and knew it well, one of the reasons she had managed to stay on staff so long.

Ambriella sat down after she had finished the final room, her stomach rumbling as she waited the final hour until she could go downstairs. It was in those moments that her mind wandered, thinking of what it would be like to live on the other side. What it would be like to have a guaranteed life, to marry and live with people catering to you, but Ambriella knew she would hate it. After a life spent constantly moving, going, checking, there was very little chance that she could be happy sitting around watching others.

When the bell chimed the dinner hour, Ambriella was more than a little relieved; with her thoughts still lingering on the garden, she had neglected to eat before work. She quickly moved through the hall, putting away bucket and placing the dirty rags in the hamper.

She could hear her stomach as she moved through the back halls before finding the door that led towards the kitchen. She smiled to herself as she thought of the sandwich waiting for her. In her hurry to reach the kitchen, she did not see the body in front of her until they had collided.

“I am sorry, sir,” she whispered, dropping her eyes down immediately. She heard Nicholas’ low, quiet chuckle and fought the urge to look up despite the others in the hall. “It will not happen again.”

“’Tis too bad,” he spoke softly. He still stood close to her, much closer than he should but she did not have the urge to step away. As the other footsteps silenced, Ambriella lifted her eyes to see they were alone.

“Sir,” she breathed the word and he nodded. His eyes searched hers and she finally found his, and despite her nerves from their close proximity, she felt calm.

“Miss Ambriella,” he laughed. “You know I hate when you call me by that awful title.”

“I apologize sorry, Sir,” she smiled mischievously. “It won’t happen again.” He smiled, and Ambriella gripped her skirt tightly, her hands beginning to dampen as she clung to the folds of fabric.

“I must go,” he said gently, and she could see the smile falling from his face. She nodded and stared, as did he, both either unable or unwilling to move.

“As do I,” Ambriella agreed finally, glancing towards the kitchen door. He continued to look at her before nodding again, almost nervously, causing her to smile at the sight.

“Until we meet again,” Nicholas whispered, his voice low in way that had only imagined it could, and she nodded. He gave her one final nod as he moved away and she dropped her head, only lifting her eyes as his voice spoke again, “Miss Ambriella.”

“Mr. Nicholas,” she whispered in return. Her voice was gentle as she released a breath, finally moving towards the kitchen door, not daring to turn back as his footsteps paused at the end of the hallway. “Nicholas,” she repeated to herself, relishing the feel of his name on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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